


Paul Blart: Mall Cop 3

by theymightbefoxes



Category: Paul Blart: Mall Cop (Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 04:02:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theymightbefoxes/pseuds/theymightbefoxes
Summary: The unwanted, unwarranted, interdimensional sequel to the beloved classic, Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2.





	Paul Blart: Mall Cop 3

**Author's Note:**

> Credits:  
> (to be revealed)

It was night, and Paul Blart was hanging out with Joel Nutella, a coworker of his he’d been hanging out with recently. Joel lived in a one-bedroom apartment, and so in order to successfully and comfortably enjoy their communal TV ceremony, they had to share the bed. Unfortunately, Blart usually hogged up most of the space with his girth, and poor Joel usually had to hang on for dear life, precariously positioned at the end of the bed. But despite this frustrating arrangement, Blart and Joel were always able to enjoy themselves and have a good time. Joel had transferred to the mall cop service a few months ago, and ever since then he’d been getting the hang of it perhaps more than Paul Blart could ever imagine. He brought a little extra pep towards the team every time he’d show up, even cheering up passerbyers trapped in the maze-like labyrinths of the slowly dying, fluorescent-saturated mall. Blart thought so highly of him that he considered him to be his successor if he’d ever retire, which given that Blart was 53 seemed like something that would be happening relatively soon.

 _Zootopia_ happened to play on the TV that night. Blart didn’t pay much attention it; he was too busy sipping furiously at his Starbucks Caramel Macchiato. Joel, however, was immediately drawn in to the story. The buddy-cop story, chock-full of anthropomorphic animals, perfectly matched Joel’s interests and tastes. It was almost like he was hypnotized; he couldn’t stop staring at the screen, the wonderful animation, the hidden jokes and layers and political commentary no mortal man could ever comprehend. But at that point Joel no longer felt like a mortal man. He quickly started to comprehend everything the movie was telling him. Within him he felt the energy of a god; he felt new blood pumping into his veins, felt new emotions no man should ever feel. He had never felt this alive in his life. He understood Nicholas Piberius Wilde and Judith Laverne Hopps more than he understood himself, or his closest friends, or anything he had ever known prior to this point, realizing at that point, that Joel Nutella had to be dead, and that he must make space in his brain for the infinite knowledge of _Zootopia_.

Shortly after this enlightenment (which only took about a second) some sort of creature had burst into Joel’s apartment, and happened to launch itself into Joel. He writhed in pain as the creature attached to him and wiggled him around.

“RUH ROH!” Blart screamed at the top of his lungs until he could barely speak.

Blart, all hopped up on adrenaline, tried to taze the creature out of him, but that had failed and had tased Joel too, both ending up doing a seizure-like dance that only latched the thing onto Joel’s body further.

“CALL 911!” Joel screamed repeatedly. But Blart couldn’t hear him over Blart’s own screams, and his high-pitched squealing, like a space pig from hell, pierced Joel’s ears so badly that he’d almost rather be eaten by the alien than to hear Blart’s screams again.

After screaming for several minutes and doing absolutely nothing of value, Blart got an AK from the closet and started shooting in the general direction of the alien, spraying bullets and hitting every body part, ensuring a slow and painful death for both of the recipients. After a couple gruesome minutes, both the alien and Joel were inevitably dead.

Blart took a quick Macchiato break and then immediately after called the cops, and The Government came to the scene in no less than two shakes of a horse's buttocks, assessing the scene and asking him questions. They had Joel's body wrapped in what looked to be like cellophane, and quarantined the creature. In doing so The Government found nothing of note in the creature, though its overall composition was not like anything on Earth. As for Joel, they had to hold off the funeral for a couple weeks due to the nature of the death, and anything about the creature was kept hush-hush due to fear of widespread panic.

Despite all this, no such alien invasions had happened ever since that one day. Eventually, once the panic and fear over the creature had dissipated and it had been determined that the threat to humanity was truly gone, a public funeral was held. Only then could Paul Blart finally move past the grief in his own very special way, which was to intersperse his speeches with screams and squeals.

* * *

**Episode 1: Mr. Blart Sky**

* * *

It's spring, and Isaac and Josh are standing in front of their house, bikes balanced with their hands, looking up in awe at the big, blue, summer sky. Only the sounds of birds chirping and the rustling of leaves populate their aural senses. And what nature reveals, after the fire, is the unfazed truth. A certain something feels missing from Isaac’s life. An absence of which he cannot place. Indeed, summer had come and swayed the windswept leaves to rest, leaving them, despite the gentle summer winds, still unrattled in their grave, waiting to be exhumed by a new replacement, which is predestined to happen, whenst the march of time unceasingly reaches her destination.

“Josh?" Isaac says, without looking down.

“Yeah?”

“Something’s wrong.”

“What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know, but something feels wrong. It’s just a feeling.”

Isaac doesn't know why, but not only does today feels different; something feels changed. He doesn't even know what exactly. Just some weird innate feeling, unlike, when he thinks about it, anything he's ever experienced. Almost as if he’s referencing something he’d never even read before.

_“If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about the answers.” - Mark “Simple Syrup” Danielewsky [sic]_

Suddenly, Isaac feels like today’s going to be a long day.

“C’mon, let’s get going!” Josh says, snapping Isaac out of his pretentious trance.

Meanwhile, in the mall, Blart sighs and continues along to do his daily work stuff, checking the mall shops, doing his civil rights as a loyal citizen of the United States of America, Home of the Brave, the Free, and the Fast and the Furious, etc. etc.

But something catches his eye when he gets outside. Standing there seems to be two boys, aged 13 or something, along with a parade of what looks to be people dressed up as animals? But that isn’t the weird part. For some reason he can’t understand he begins to fixate on the two boys. They seem familiar. Strangely suspicious. Like they might cause a scene.

“What’re you two boys doin’ out here in the middle of the daylight?” he questions them.

“We’re just getting pizza, that’s all. Why?”

“I feel like, like there’s something wrong.”

“That’s funny, that’s what my friend Isaac said on the way here.”

Paul Blart gets a shotgun and uncharacteristically shoots Isaac in the head.

“What the cuss!? You killed my friend for no reason!”

Mr. Blart starts laughing. “Gets ‘em every time! It’s great!” He claps his hands together, but only once. Only once.

“By the way he’s still dead as a rock.”

“Yeah, I know. Why’d you kill him anyways?”

“There was something wrong with him.”

“Nice.”

“Something still feels wrong.”

If Mr. Blart was more observant, he would notice that that feeling might be the fact that Isaac's death isn't fazing him or Josh. But, unfortunately, this is not the first thing he notices. Instead, Paul Blart sniffs the air like a rabid dog. Oh no. It’s mama’s key lime pizza pie.

“Mama’s key lime pizza is in the air.” He sniffs all around and sideways, following the scent and moving closer to its origin, with Josh tagging along behind, until suddenly coming upon a foreboding building the size of a castle. It’s gray, with more shades of grey, and even more gray. Josh winces as he looks at the smoke of the building, and as he holds Isaac’s bleeding corpse in his hand. Josh throws Isaac’s corpse (which he’d apparently been carrying around all this time) a couple feet, so he can really get a view of the strange castle.

“I don’t think we should go in.”

“Well, why not?” Mr. Blart questions.

“Think about it for a second. This is a fenced, gray area, the sign right here says ‘TRESPASSERS WILL BE HUNG,’ there are security cameras everywhere, I see a black cat walking casually, and the freaking building looks like they do fishy tests or whatever.”

“What do you mean? This is my mama's house.”

Josh’s mouth opens wide agape.

“Mama? Mama?” he speaks into the intercom.

“Password,” a stern voice speaks in response.

“Does life imitate Blart, or does Blart imitate life?”

After a long pause, “It looks like you have someone over. Who is this boy.”

“Oh nothing, this is Josh, I recently killed his friend.”

Immediately the gate swings open. They run into the building before it quickly closes again. They look around for an entrance, until one pops up from the ground. A strange analog looking elevator. And it seems to be an entirely new one too.

They go in and music fills the silence. It ranges from obscure 60s bands to well, anything and everything before the 60s. Everything seems outdated, and the colors seem limited to a specific palette, somewhat tastefully gauche. A ding rings and a side of the room opens to an extravagant hall with colors and all sorts of outdated technology, some of them maybe even made up.

“Oh hello,” a slightly old woman says. She seems bright and cheery and is wearing something weird, for lack of a better word, harking back to a long-past era that never existed. “You may be intimidated by the current state of my home. It’s based on Wes Anderson, my favorite director and the man I wish was my husband.” One who has only seen a glimpse of Wes Anderson would not even presume that this house was even tangentially related to the aforementioned man. “Anyways, dinner is ready."

“Thanks, mama,” Mr. Blart says, and does a weird kissing motion.

She leads them to a comically long dinner table which already has what looks to be many pies and chicken and... things. Half of the stuff that’s in the dinner table is, objectively, utterly unpronounceable, and completely of her own design.

“Let me pass the Auswvetenwatvvenholtrvredensvkvatwvamtac,” Ms. Blart says, extraordinarily nonchalantly. “It’s a dish made of roasted gourd, meat from the stomach of a dying goat—which by the way is also ceremoniously hit with a bat until the goat stops screaming of pain, let me tell you the sheer noise is absolutely unbearable but at least you get free food and whoops I’m getting off track let’s see… oh there’s also flame-broiled pig liver, marinated for a month in pineapple and the yellow part of the egg yolk, then cooked for 10 days straight for the finest, burnt-to-the-crisp texture, then a penny from the faux-homeless man down the street is added for extra flavoring. Here.” From out of nowhere she puts down a plate that almost certainly looks like indescribable vomit. Mr. Blart instantly starts to force the concoction down his esophagus, as if he were a drunken, starving, food-addicted pig. With his mouth full, he invites Josh to try it.

“With all due respect, no thank you.”

Mr. Blart then, in a moment of enlightenment, gets up all of the sudden, which shakes the table, and forcibly grabs Josh by the hand. He pulls him all the way into a strange, metal room with all sorts of buttons and stuff.

“Why’d you do that?”

"Listen kid I know there's something special about you, I had a dream the other night about you, and you were in your room playing Destiny and I remember you thinking about your friend wanting to suffocate him. And then the room shook and I saw this strange, alien like creature in the woods. You told your friend Isaac, I think that was his name, to go check it out. The alien proceeded to bite his head off."

Josh is stunned, and for a few minutes doesn't know what to say.

"What we're going to do, is you’re gonna use whatever special skill, power that you have, so we can find and track down this alien invasion."

"Why don't we just call the gov-"

"Josh you know the government doesn't do cuss. Trust me. And plus it's a lot more fun."

"But-"

"No I'm just kidding hah, I just got a feeling that this isn't really an alien invasion. I just have a strange feeling something is wrong, for no particular reason. I also invited you to my house for..." He pauses for an embarrassingly long amount of time. "No par-ti-cu-lar rea-son."

“...”

"Let's go eat."

After they finished eating they were back outside at the gate, and it was now sunset, although you couldn't really tell through the thick fog that now made Ms. Blart's house far more mysterious. Blart’s walking back to his house, but for some strange reason Josh is also following him.

"Hey kid, why don’t you scram and get the cuss outta here?"

"Why?"

"Obviously you have parents. They're gonna be real worried."

"Isaac and I don't have parents."

"...how the cuss is that possible?"

"We just live in a house together, and my older sister acts as our guardian. Supposed to, anyways."

"So shouldn't you just go back to your sister?"

"Oh trust me she wouldn't mind. Plus I don't want to have to deal with my sister questioning me again as to whether I've killed Isaac."

"I'd do something about it but as I told you The Government doesn't do cuss.”

“...” Josh makes a frowny face.

“Fine. I guess you can stay at my place."

Josh walks into his surprisingly older-looking, though overall more normal, two-story house, greeting the now not-overweight Maya, who was coincidentally also here, “just visiting Blart for the summer.” Soon he’s lying with his eyes closed on the couch, almost feeling as if the presence of Isaac’s in the air, though he can’t really tell why.

* * *

Isaac awoke in his new ghostly form. Everything seemed to be normal but also felt a little more "heightened." He could somehow feel like he was looking 360 degrees all the time, and at the same time felt that he could interpret the hustle and bustle of everything all around him while somehow being able to focus on particular sounds. He looked at Josh and Mr. Blart converse with each other, observing the way their tongues and mouths shaped the sound coming out of their vocal cords. Isaac was disappointed in Blart for killing him, but he knew this would come. In his mind’s eye or whatever. Yet, why would he be a ghost if he didn't have unfinished business? He quickly realized the answer to that question: his unfinished business was to take revenge against Josh.

Isaac followed him around throughout their adventures, observing the way Mr. Blart looked at the still-unnamed woman, the way Mr. Blart seemed so passionately focused on Josh. Whenever he got bored he would just pass through walls, which endlessly amused him. Eventually he got to the part where Mr. Blart revealed the dream, and all he could think about was that dream. He kept trying to make sense of it but it all just seemed to fall apart, like trying to put together puzzle pieces from different boxes.

As Josh sat back into the dinner table listening to Mr. Blart and the woman talk about how The Government doesn't do anything, he tried his best to influence Josh in any way, shape, or form. At first he tried to scream at Josh, but realized that he had no mouth, and then tried to push him, but then realized that he had no arms to push him with. After some time he put together a theory: he could instead influence space and time to give him the best possible candidate to do an action that he needed to be done.

Yet the universe seemed to choose no candidate, even after he spent all midnight till sunrise trying to influence someone, or something.

* * *

Josh abruptly wakes up to the startling sound which sounds like a sped-up police car alarm. He looks through the living room window. There’s a military-green colored van with the words printed in all-caps:

_"THE GOVERNMENT."_

Mr. Blart and Maya come out of their respective rooms in a quick hurry.

"It's The Government!" Blart shouts.

"What are they doing here!?" screams Maya.

"Why would I know!?"

A woman in a weird uniform jumps out of the back of the vehicle and runs to the house, holding all sorts of strange weapons and gadgets that, upon closer inspection, are all attached to one device on her back. She politely rings the doorbell and knocks three times.

"I'll get it," Blart says, and saunters to the door.

"We detected an anomaly here,” she says, in a voice so gravelly that it could only come from someone who means trouble.

"A what?"

"Let me finish, Mr. Paul Blart. I bet you didn't expect I knew your name." She chuckles, impressed with herself.

"Anyways, in all seriousness, we detected that some strange, outside force may be manipulating the time-space coordinates and wobbling the wibbly things. As we, The Government, are intellectuals, unlike other fiends, we have the capacity to detect and trap this anomaly, whatever it is. We just wanted to let you know before you uh, sue us." Chuckles again. Even cracks a smile. One could wonder whether this woman is the long last daughter of Jeff Goldblum.

Blart would say something kind and thoughtful, but he is so very rudely interrupted by the screams of a strange interdimensional portal, sucking up Blart's house, The Government vehicle, some squirrels, and some of the next door neighbor's fence, presumably just to spite them.

Isaac, meanwhile, looks in horror at the portal he had just created. He tries to use all the psychic power he has to try to erase this, yet alas he just can't, for he’s too inexperienced. He didn’t mean to break time and space, he repeats to himself, he really didn’t.

At that moment, he realizes he might be the only one that would be able to stop this from happening. So at the last minute, he rushes into the portal, right before it closes, maybe at least just to check on them to see if they’re OK.

But inside, he knows that something still isn’t right.

Out from the ether, a thought comes to him, making him realize that all this is only the beginning of their troubles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Joel Luttrell, Isaac, and Josh for donating their souls.
> 
> Also, I'm not used to writing in present tense, so hopefully I didn't eff it up.


End file.
